


More Like ‘Good Morning’

by jewboykahl



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Sleepy Gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewboykahl/pseuds/jewboykahl
Summary: Every Monday and Tuesday morning he allows himself to lay his head down and rest beside Stan. Sometimes Stan runs his fingers through his hair, sometimes he rubs his back, sometimes he does nothing if Kyle arrives early. Kenny cannot get enough of the short-lived, potentially meaningless bursts of intimacy with his crush.
Relationships: Stan Marsh/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33





	More Like ‘Good Morning’

**Author's Note:**

> heyyy idk what im doing this is really pointless and fluffy but i love my tired babies! i just think they would nap together 😪

On Mondays and Tuesdays, Kenny is exhausted. 

He’s always exhausted, being a 17 year-old with two jobs, but he’s extra tired due to working until 3am delivering pizzas. Legally, he is not even _supposed_ to be delivering because of insurance issues, but his boss does not care, and he certainly does not either. He makes surprisingly good money off of tips and DMR. 

At first he attempted to hide how utterly sleep-deprived he was, putting on a faux joyful persona despite the dark circles coloring beneath his light brown eyes and the way his head wobbled under the weight of his exhaustion. Eventually his friends pried the cause of his change in sleeping habits, and Stan and Kyle took turns ranting about how dangerous delivering late at night could be or how unhealthy it is to only get three hours of sleep on school nights (or any night). Kenny appreciated the concern, but could not help but to nod off during the lecture and continue working the same schedule. 

Before school actually begins, students are required to wait in the cafeteria before being let loose in the halls. Stan always ends up at the school ungodly early thanks to his mother’s work schedule and his lack of a car. Kyle is always close behind, and always feels a bit guilty about bringing Butters along and not Stan, though it is justified by Stan living a half hour in the opposite direction. The three usually either chat or do their homework until Cartman interrupts with something stupid. 

Much like every other facet of his personality, Kenny is a wild card. Most of the time he does not show up until the very last second before the bell rings, but there are plenty of times where he is able to catch up with his friends in the cafeteria. Every once in a great while, he will even be there before _Stan_. Occasionally he does not even arrive until third period. 

On Mondays and Tuesdays, though, he comes early.

He knows it seems counterproductive to come early when he had only fallen asleep mere hours ago, but Karen never minds coming early, and he strives to recreate a moment between him and Stan that occurred at a time he decided to come early after failing to fall asleep after a particularly late shift. 

Kenny laid his head on their shared bench-table, too tired to hold himself upright. After a few moments of wordlessness and burying his face in his arms, he felt something—on his head. Soothing strokes of someone’s fingers twirling his unruly blond curls.

The person was Stan—and he just so happens to have a fat ass crush on Stan. 

In that moment, Kenny’s heart stalled and he completely froze, unable to address what was _happening_. Instead he enjoyed it in silence and mourned over the loss of the calming sensation once the crowd shifted toward the lockers once the student body was let loose. 

Every Monday and Tuesday morning he allows himself to lay his head down and rest beside Stan. Sometimes Stan runs his fingers through his hair, sometimes he rubs his back, sometimes he does nothing if Kyle arrives early. Kenny cannot get enough of the short-lived, potentially meaningless bursts of intimacy with his crush. 

“Ken?” Stan’s voice comes to him in a gentle tone, as if afraid to disturb him although he was in the middle of a noisy, fluorescent-lit lunch room. 

The blond hums and turns his head. He peels his eyelids apart to have a look at Stan’s pale, gorgeous face. Concern is written into his features. “Whassup?” 

“Do you… want to go take a nap?” 

Kenny lifts an eyebrow. “You mean ditch?” 

Stan shrugs, suddenly a bit sheepish as he casts his pretty, blue gaze away and rubs his crossed arms. “I don’t know, I guess that’s stupid… I just, I-I’ve been not really sleeping lately and I know you just worked late, so, I thought it might be nice.” 

A lazy smirk curls Kenny’s lips, “If you wanna hook up with me, all you gotta do is ask, Marsh, you don’t have to pretend it’s a nap,” 

Though Stan rolls his eyes and Kenny chortles, they rise in unison, under the mutual understanding that they are about to go take a nap. Kenny comments, “Better duck out quick before our favorite Jewish mother lectures us about the importance of education.” 

Stan snorts in response and allows himself to be led out to Kenny’s horrifically janky, old Impala. The sun is still tucked away behind the horizon as they peel out of the parking lot, only half-anxious to draw attention to themselves as the only car leaving as a line of students and parents are pulling in. 

While Stan’s eyes are shut as he props himself up by the elbow against the car’s door, Kenny steals a probably a hundred glances at Stan during the drive, as they listen to _Guardians of the Galaxy’s Awesome Mix Vol. 2_ through Kenny’s single working speaker on the passenger’s side. His crush’s jet black hair appears due for a cut, starting to curl in the back the way Kenny knows he hates. He’s positively glowing in the light of the golden sun gradually rising in the background while he hums softly to the soothing mixes of late-20th century tunes. 

If he hasn’t already, Kenny’s sure he could fall in love. 

There was an unspoken consensus that they would go to Stan’s even though it is a greater distance, as his full size memory foam mattress is a far cry away from Kenny’s 15 year-old, frameless twin. There would also surely be a lack of parents, whereas you could never truly be sure at the McCormicks. 

On arriving at the farmhouse, Stan admits the entry with his house key and escorts them into his bedroom. Kenny scans his eyes around the area, warmth and comfort filling his being at the prospect of being surrounded by Stan’s scent and interior decorating preferences. 

It is not the first time the two had fallen asleep together, so it is not as weird as it should be when they climb beneath the covers with one another. lt is an indescribably incredible feeling after the late 7 hour shift—much better than a cold, metal desk and a scolding teacher nagging him to pay attention. He melts into the warmth of the sheets and quilted material, pleased to breath in Stan’s Old Spice cologne and the scent of lavender essential oil diffuser his father insisted would help with his mental health issues (spoiler alert—it did not). 

Several hums and moans emit from Stan as he wiggles himself into a comfortable position, and when he does he shuts his eyes. He is facing in Kenny’s direction, granting him another perfect opportunity to examine the attractive curves and outlines of his face. Kenny cannot help but grin as he does so, overcome with admiration for the thoughtful, gentle, generous boy before him. 

Kenny lifts a cautious hand and stretches his fingers towards Stan’s face. Slowly, as if playing a game of _Operation_ , he allows his fingertips to graze Stan’s chin. Once he receives only a close-mouthed grin in reply, he continues to drag the pads of his fingers across his soft, pinkening cheeks; the short, soft slope of his nose; and when he feels really bold, Stan’s soft, plump pink lips. 

Stan leans into every touch until the pair are dangerously close. Kenny’s senses somehow simultaneously heighten and soothe themselves. While Stan’s presence is an immensely calming one and he could easily touch him for eternity, the closeness is a reminder that Stan could pull away and reject him at any moment. 

But he never does. They only inch closer and closer until Stan’s hands find Kenny’s waist and their noses touch. Kenny’s fingers are now embedded in Stan’s messy, dark hair; both of their eyes are open now. There is a glint in Stan’s baby blues that welcomes any advance. He doesn’t hear it, but he can feel it. 

Kenny takes the plunge and presses their lips together. The feeling is electric. Every atom of his body comes alive, and he is hyper aware of every cell beneath Stan’s hand that reaches forward to cup the nape of his neck, urging him to maintain the contact of their lips. It’s a tender, experimental kiss that is made even more powerful when followed up by several more. 

The pair pull apart for air, breathing into one another and bravely opening their eyes to gaze into each other’s. Words don't come easy, but soft, adoring smiles and laughs do. Eventually Stan whispers and he curls Kenny’s ringlets with his fingers. “I always want to do that when you get up from being asleep on the cafeteria table…” 

“Kiss me?” Kenny questions, coy simper playing across his lips. 

Stan nods and grins in kind, “Yeah… you just look so cute when you’re tired.” 

The blond snorts, “I’m fuckin’ adorable all the time, then.” 

“You are,” Stan confirms, eyes never leaving Kenny’s to express he means it. 

It warms Kenny’s heart. He promises, “Well, so are you. And I been wantin’ to kiss you since the beginning of fuckin’ time.” 

“No more waiting,” Stan sighs before another, more passionate kiss is pressed to his mouth. Their lips slip ungracefully together in their fatigue, and both giggle when they realize why they are having trouble keeping a pace. 

“Alright, you horny bastard, let’s sleep.” Stan jests, leaning up to allow Kenny to fall into him. 

Kenny smirks as he throws an arm around Stan’s middle, resting his head in the space beneath Stan’s chin and relishing in the soft circles being rubbed against his back. He whispers, “I can fuck you in my dreams, yanno.” 

“Good night, Ken,” 

“More like good morning, Stanely, it’s damn near 9 in the—” 

“I love you, but shut up.” 

A giddy grin clamps Kenny’s mouth shut. He nuzzles into Stan’s neck and closes his eyes. Eventually the two drift off, and when Kenny wakes, he’s positive a better rest does not exist without Stan by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and im sorry for probably a lot of typos it is late!


End file.
